


Lost and found

by Wavecloud19



Series: Priest [2]
Category: Fleabag (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, POV Fleabag (Fleabag), POV Priest (Fleabag), Romantic Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24697288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wavecloud19/pseuds/Wavecloud19
Summary: So this picks up where my last fic ends (i.e. at the end of season two). There is just one little addition that I added in the last paragraph of 'Priest' that is needed to understand where this fic starts. I have added that into the chapter note in case you ceeb to read ‘Priest’.There will be angst and I have a vague idea of where this is headed but expect some crossed wires and some mopey Priest and Flea.Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading!
Relationships: Fleabag/Priest (Fleabag)
Series: Priest [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785526
Comments: 28
Kudos: 142





	1. A missed connection

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note if you haven’t read my ‘Priest’ fic, this fic picks up straight after S2E6 with the addition of Priest realising his mistake and running back to the bus stop to get Flea back.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter one - A missed connection

His heart was hammering against his chest and he buried his face into his hands as he sat on the ground. What had he done? He was an eejit. He had lost her. He should have kissed her when he’d had the chance, whilst his fingers had been interlaced with hers. Their eyes had met, noses an inch apart. He should have fucking kissed her.

She hadn’t even fought him on it. Or tried to change his mind. She had merely told him she loved him and let him go. And like an idiot, he’d gone. Where was she now? The bus surely hadn’t arrived. Buses in London rarely arrived on time, and never early. Was this a sign? He looked up slightly, eyes lifted towards the sky. No, it couldn’t be. She had probably just walked. Or hopped in a cab.

‘I need more of a sign than that,’ he muttered softly.

Suddenly, the bushes behind the bus stop rustled. He jumped up, twisting a little, and stumbled.

‘Boo!’ He clapped his hands towards the bush. Bright eyes peered out at him and then disappeared. He could hear the animal (probably a fox) make its way through the under growth. Was that a sign? He looked up again, it was a reflex, like he was passing the blame for his action, or non action, onto his holy boss.

‘Ok,’ he muttered to himself, picking up his discarded garment bag. ‘You give me one more,’ he said softly. ‘Ye hear me? That’s two, give me one more and I’ll go home. But if not…’

He needed to see her. It had to be tonight. Then the dumping at the bus stop wouldn’t count, right? He pulled the tab out of his collar as he waited at the bus stop, pondering his next move and undid a few buttons on his shirt. Breathing a sigh of relief at the release, he wondered where she was. He could call her, find out where she’d gone. Except he didn’t have her number. What if she had headed out to a bar? Or back to her dad’s house? Should he try that first? It was plausible. He knew she didn’t like her family all that much, but maybe she wanted to enjoy the night, now they had ended their brief affair officially.

He headed back down the street towards the house and slipped in around the open side gate to find the festivities still in full swing. Of course they would be, he’d only been gone 10 minutes. Feeling slightly creepy, he stood in the shadows, scanning the guests to try and spot her. Her dad was there, laughing at something one of the guests had said. Where was her stepmother?

‘Father!’

He flinched and turned towards the shrill call. The bride was walking quickly towards him, beaming widely.

‘Father! You’re back are you? Couldn’t stay away from us for too long? I thought that might happen. You _did_ leave a bit early, didn’t you.’ She stroked his arm lightly and then gripped it softly between her fingers.

‘No, no, I was - ah, I was just-’

‘Father, are you ok?’ She reached up and brushed the back of her finger against his temple, ‘you look a bit… hot.’

‘Ah I - ah, I forgot something. Up in your studio. I’d just popped back to grab it.’

‘Of course, Father, was it something important? Something holy, I expect?’ She resumed her grip on his arm and led him through the garden to the back door. ‘Not to worry, I’ll show you up.’

As they walked, he whipped his head from side to side, scouring the faces. She wasn’t there, his heart sank. He’d have known straight away. He would have felt that pull towards her.

He allowed himself to be led into the house and up the stairs, nodding and letting out generic responses to the bride as she chattered about her guests.

‘…and Claire all but disappeared, could you believe it, Father?’

‘She disappeared?’

‘From the ceremony I mean. She thought we’d never notice, but you know me,’ she grinned, ‘eyes like a hawk of course. No collar, Father? Took it off for the walk did you? You know, I always thought they had to wear those all the time, but here we are.’ she opened the door to her studio, where he had been keeping his belongings during the ceremony and stepped aside to let him in. ‘What was it that you’d forgotten, Father?’

He looked around wildly, desperately searching for something to lay claim to. ‘Ah - my… uh, my alb, I thought I remembered leaving it, but I must have it after all.’ He smiled at her, keen to escape.

She stared at him, eyes wide and locked on his, eyebrows raised. ‘You have it after all?’

He nodded, shifting from one foot to the other.

‘Well,’ she broke away the eye contact and turned with a flourish. ‘Lovely, come for another drink then Father?’ She began walking down the hallway to the stairs, pausing at the top to look back and check he was following her.

‘Um, I. Well I really do have to go, I have an early service tomorrow morning,’ he rolled his eyes gently, as if expressing annoyance that he had to leave and smiled at her. ‘But, really, thanks again. I had a great day, it was lovely to marry you.’

‘Ooh,’ she laughed.

‘I’ll see myself out, you head back out. Thank you.’ He bolted to the front door and raced out before she could try and change his mind again. Walking briskly down the road, he knew his next plan. Her flat. Same as last night. Different intentions. He hailed a cab and jumped in, calling out her address to the driver. At least this time he didn’t need to call Claire for help this time, he thought, as he sat back in the seat and breathed a sigh of relief.

As he pulled up outside her flat, smiling slightly at the sense of deja vu that now passed through him, he noticed the lights were out. Fuck. He walked up the pathway and peered in through the front window. Definitely dark. Maybe she had gotten home and gone straight to bed. Was it rude to wake her? His thoughts flipped back and forth as his finger hovered over the buzzer.

No. He had to do it. He had to do it now. He pressed firmly on the bell and heard the faint buzzing echo through her living room. Was she a light sleeper? She hadn’t woken the night before, as he’d lain watching her and felt the smooth skin down her back as he’d stroked her softly. He pressed the buzzer again, harder, hoping it might somehow change the volume of her bell inside. After a few minutes, and no response from inside, he put his garment bag on the floor and perched against the window sill. What next? She had to come home at some point right? But what if she came home with someone? His chest tightened at the thought. He didn’t know what he’d do if he saw that. And he doubted that she would enjoy it either. Would she? Another person in her bed the night after him?

‘She can do what she likes,’ he muttered to himself sadly.

But no. No matter. Whether she returned alone or with company, he had to talk to her. He could just talk to her and then let her enjoy her night. He slid down the door, coming to a rest on the step, settled back. Decision made, he would wait for her.

****

_She didn’t know where she was going. Tears were falling down her face as she walked. They weren’t aggressive, these tears. They were just calmly gliding down her cheeks, a constant stream. Somehow, the statue of her mother in her lefthand made her feel slightly stronger. But not by much._

_It’ll pass. It’ll fucking pass._

_She walked quietly for a while before realising she was in the vicinity of Hilary’s. She couldn’t go home. Not back there. It had him in it. Everywhere. From the smell of him on her sheets, to the undershirt he had left on the floor by the sofa. She had found it just before she left for the wedding, crumpled and discarded, where she had thrown it the night before in a frenzy. This was before he had officially dumped her of course. When she had thought he might pick her. She’d pulled it up to her nose and inhaled him. No, she couldn’t go there. She’d end up burying her face into the fucking t-shirt and sobbing for half the night._

_She let herself into Hilary’s feeling comforted by the dark, silent cafe. The menus were placed tidily in the holder, something Boo had always done when she was here. Hilary and Stephanie snuffled in their cage and she instantly felt guilty as she realised that she’d not fed them since yesterday. She had been too consumed with him, and then the wedding. She hastily ran to the kitchen and pulled a piece of lettuce out of the fridge, shoving it into the cage and fastening the door shut. The animals quietened as they began to eat and she spun around._

_What now?_

_Wine. Always wine. She began opening the cupboards in the back of the cafe, she must have some wine somewhere. She’d not drunk here since Boo, but there had to be some lying around. Finally, she found the stash. Four dusty bottles of red wine sat in the cupboard, next to some medical supplies and disinfectant. They’d probably been there two years maybe, that’d be ok wouldn’t it?_

_She uncorked a bottle and sniffed it gingerly. ‘Smells fine,’ she said to Hilary before grabbing a glass and decanting. She sat down heavily in the seat by the door and took a deep gulp. ‘Tastes fine,’ she looked over towards the cage, the lettuce was now gone and Hilary was sleeping whilst Stephanie appeared to have buried her way into the shavings in the cage._

_She thought of Boo, as she made her way steadily through the bottle, picturing what she would be saying to her now. About the priest, about the wedding, about Stephanie. Boo would have loved all three. She’d have loved the kindness of the priest, loved his openness. ‘Boo probably would have said he was really fit,’ she nodded solemnly to Hilary, lighting a cigarette. The wedding, Boo would have loved the wedding, she could only imagine how round her eyes would have been as she took in the circus of guests that had arrived. And Stephanie, well Boo would have smothered Stephanie in kisses and declared her to be excellent. ‘Sorry Stephanie,’ she called towards the cage, ‘you haven’t exactly lucked out having me as your owner.’_

_She exhaled the smoke, looking around at the guinea pig decorations on the wall. She hadn’t opened the cafe today, on account of the wedding. But tomorrow she’d need to, Joe would be waiting. He had been very disappointed when she’d informed him of the temporary closure._

_‘Oh, darl, a wedding sounds lovely, but you sure you can’t just open for me. Quick one and I’ll be on my way, like?’_

_‘Sorry Joe, I won’t really have time,’ she’d said, fighting a hangover and wondering what her priest had been doing. That was the day he’d dumped her the first time. At the bus stop._

_She got up and grabbed a second bottle. Two dumpings, in two days. Both at the same fucking bus stop. ‘I’m never catching the bus again,’ she called out to Hilary. ‘Fuck him!’ She poured another glass and plonked herself back down again. ‘Fuck him! FUCK HIM!’ She yelled again, raising her voice. The guinea pig jumped violently at the sound. ‘Yeah that’s right,’ she brandished her cigarette feebly towards the cage, ash flying off onto the ground. ‘Fuck him, Hilary, fuck him, Stephanie, FUCK HIM!’ She screamed, her voice growing hoarse, before slumping back in her chair._

***

He woke up with a jolt. He reached his hand to his sore neck and rubbed it. Where was he? His garment bag was in front of him on the ground, he was sitting on a step. He turned and looked up. Her door. He was at her flat. And it was bright, the sun was streaming through the trees. He could tell it was early though, there was dew on the ground around him and he shivered slightly.

Standing up and stretching his body out, he looked around. He had been leaning against her front door. Which mean that either, she hadn’t come home, or she _had_ come home but she had seen him, chosen to avoid him, and let herself in another way. He wasn’t sure which hurt more. The thought of her out somewhere else, or the thought of her actively avoiding him on her doorstep. It was 6.30, his head was pounding from leaning against the hard door all night and his neck ached from the awkward position he had fallen into. He grabbed his garment bag and headed out to the street. It would have to be another cab, he couldn’t face the bus.

Where was she? She must have gone to a bar, maybe to try and forget about him. He climbed into the cab and gave the church’s address.

‘Big night then?’ The cabbie asked, one eyebrow raised.

‘Ah no, I-’

‘Just ‘avin a lark mate,’ the cabbie chuckled to himself.

They drove in silence the rest of the way. He rested his chin on his hand glumly, looking out the window at early morning joggers and commuters. He had fucked up. Big time.

Letting himself into the rectory quietly, he snuck up the stairs, hopping over the creek floorboard and dumped his bag in his bedroom. Pam would definitely have noticed that he hadn’t come home. She slept so lightly, she’d probably heard him just now. At least she wasn’t the type to confront him about it. She would just give him some suspicious side eye looks and make backhand comments hoping he would tell her where he’d been.

Fuck. He had fucked up. He wished he could rewind the last twelve hours. Back to the bus stop, back to the moment he had sat next to her.

_‘It’s God, isn’t it.’_

_‘No,’ he’d shake his head softly and grab her hand. ‘I can’t give up God completely, but I can’t give you up. I love you.’_

He wasn’t even sure now what his plan was. He knew he couldn’t have both. He couldn’t continue to be a priest and have her on the side. But he couldn’t give her up. The pain as he had walked away from her last night, he couldn’t bear it.

Maybe it was good that he hadn’t been able to talk to her. This gave him more time to work out his plan. More time to figure out what he wanted so he could win her back. Because he knew that now. He _had_ to win her back. He headed to the shower, towel in hand, mind racing with his next steps.

***

_She opened her eyes blearily, aware of the cold table against her cheek. Sunlight poured into the cafe and she could hear Hilary and Stephanie squeaking in their cage. She remembered drinking two bottles and making a start on her third before passing out. Her throat was sore. ‘Sorry for screaming so much Hilary,’ she looked over at the cage._

_She really had let loose. She was surprised the neighbours living above or next to the cafe hadn’t come knocking. She had vague memories of crying and screaming his name. Calling him a cunt, a fucking waste of space and a complete dickhead before breaking down and crying at the thought of his face and the way he had looked at her as they’d fucked. He would probably call it making love. She couldn't believe she had lost him. Just like that._

_It was 7am, far too early to be awake. ’Ladies, I’ll be back in a few hours,’ she called to the cage before grabbing her bag and letting herself out of the cafe. She needed to shower. And maybe have a power nap in her actual bed. Joe would be waiting at 11, desperate for his drink and a chat._

_Back at her flat, she let herself in and looked glumly around at the living room. She could picture it so clearly. The wall he had pushed her against in his desperate need to have her. The sofa they had fucked on, her on his lap, their lips together, breathing each others names. And there, on the table, was his t-shirt. She had dropped it there the day before. When she had still thought there was a tiny chance. She picked it up. It was soft, better quality than she would have expected a priest to own. She held it up to her nose, desperate for some trace of him to be there. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the scent, collapsing back onto the sofa._

_‘Fuck him,’ she whispered into the shirt as tears began to fall down her cheeks._


	2. A collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter. I love reading the comments :)
> 
> Enjoy and stay safe!
> 
> Thanks folks
> 
> P.s. no shade meant to any accountants here, I am an accountant and i know some of y'all are hilarious but boy can they be boring sometimes.

Chapter two - A collision

He had missed his chance. Fucked it up. She hadn’t even stayed at her own flat that night. She’d probably gone out and found someone else. She’d said she loved him. But from what he knew of her, she wouldn’t dwell on that for too long. She was too spirited, too alive, to retreat into her flat and mourn him. He cursed softly as he searched for some papers he needed for a meeting the next day.

‘Did you say something, Father?’

‘Fuck,’ his head snapped in the direction of the voice. He hadn't realised there was anyone with him.

Pam was beaming at him, holding two mugs, ‘I brought you some tea and biscuits, Father. You seem to be forgetting to eat or drink these days.’

‘Pam, sorry. I didn’t know you were there.’ A wave of guilt washed over him as he realised he had sworn. ‘Sorry I didn’t mean to curse, I just was in my own world. You took me by surprise there.’

‘Not to worry Father, we all make mistakes don’t we.’ She set down the mugs and produced a packet of chocolate digestives from under her arm. ‘You haven’t been back at the rectory for dinner in a week, are you ok?’

He sat down heavily into an old wooden chair, his frustrated quest to find those parish documents forgotten. ‘I’m a bit tired, Pam,’ he reached forward and pulled the steaming tea towards him, wrapping his cold hands around the mug.

‘A bit tired,’ she was nodding, her eyes were wide and focussed on his. It was unsettling, as usual. ‘A bit run down maybe, Father? You _have_ been busy after all,’ she settled back into her chair and took a biscuit. ‘You’ve had home visits, the fete to organise, we’ve had a lot of new parishioners join haven’t we recently, and of course you had the wedding.’

He jerked his head up. The wedding. Her. He had missed his chance.

‘Yes, well you were out all night that night weren’t you. The night before the wedding I mean,’ at his silence, Pam had continued to chatter. ‘Yes, I thought you looked a little off that morning. And a few days before that, you were looking a bit ill when I saw you in here. Do you remember, Father?’

He took a sip of tea, his mind filled with thoughts of her face as she had told him she loved him. He should have kissed her. She had been so closed off until then, in all their interactions. And then she had offered him that, right there, ‘I love you.’ If he was waiting for any kind of sign, then surely that had been it. And he’d missed it.

He flicked his eyes up, Pam was staring at him. Was she waiting for a response? He eyed her wearily for another couple of seconds.

‘Sorry Pam, I was a little lost then, what did you say?’

‘I said, remember the day you were in here, Father, looking a little ill that day I thought. Do you remember? I thought maybe you were coming down with something?’

She was referring to the morning after they had kissed at the church. The morning he had woken up in the vestry, bleary eyed and full of regret. ‘Uh, yes, sorry Pam. Yes I do remember that morning. You’re right, I didn’t feel well. I _am_ tired, mind.’

‘Well, you’re done here, aren’t you? Why don’t you head on over to the house? I’ll tidy up and I’ll make you some nice warming soup. I don’t like you looking like this.’

That did sound nice, he had to admit. He generally didn’t like how motherly Pam acted towards him, but right now, the idea of curling up on the sofa and being brought some comfort food sounded good.

‘That sounds grand. I’ll do that. I’ll head over now,’ he stood up and ran his hands roughly through his hair. ‘Thanks, Pam.’

She waved him away and began to fuss around the bibles and other papers laid out on the desk. He took one last glance towards her and then turned to head out the door.

It had been a week since the wedding. Since he had chosen God and then, less than 2 minutes later, desperately tried to undo the mess he had made. He hadn’t even confessed yet. He had taken seven masses, taken confession from countless parishioners, whilst he himself continued to live in sin. Mortal sin, he thought with a shudder. Despite the fact that he had rushed straight to the confessional following their initial dalliance, desperate to be free of the crushing guilt that sat firmly on his shoulders, this time, he just couldn’t do it. He felt as if confessing to their night together would take something away from it, would erase what it had meant, somehow.

He entered the house and fell back onto the sofa. He’d not spent much time in this room recently. It was spotlessly clean. Truth be told, he had spent the last seven days in trying to fill his every waking hour with activity. He had shuttled between mass, confession, meetings, home visits, tuition, more mass, more confession, communion classes and more mass, barely stopping to catch a breath, barely stopping to eat or think. Each night, he sank into a fitful, restless sleep and awoke, painfully aware of the day that stretched ahead of him, diving straight into his chores. All in the vague hope that he wouldn’t have time to sit and think. Because to think would mean to take action. And to take action would mean to see her...

But what was he doing? Of course he wanted to see her. He needed to tell her he had made a mistake. That he had regretted his decision the minute he had made it. But for some reason, the idea of seeing her sent a wave of dread over him so severe that so far it had seemed preferable to just get on with his duties. And not think at all.

What if she rejected him? She would have every right to. He had dumped her twice. What if she told him ‘thanks but no thanks. I’ve had time to reconsider and it’s a bad idea.’

He missed her desperately. Her face, her smile, the way her hair fell, curly and unruly, the way she smelled as he buried himself into her neck, the little disappearing act she did but refused to acknowledge, her laugh as she made a sly comment and then stared at him, waiting for him to chastise her. He couldn’t believe that a month ago he didn’t even know she existed and now he felt her absence in his very soul. It was unbearable.

He stood up abruptly, searching for his coat. Fuck not thinking. Fuck the dread of her possible rejection. He had to see her. He had to make it right.

***

_It had been a hard week. A week of dragging herself to the cafe, listening mindlessly to Joe natter into her ear and then dragging herself back home to get ready for her next date. She had responded to the heartbreak at the bus stop as she responded to any sort of break up: by having a lot of sex. It was more about the idea of it, the anticipation of having someone want her, rather than the actual act. Like always. Like with everyone she’d ever been with. Except for him._

_Tonight, she was seeing Luke. She’d swiped right solely on the basis of his name. Biblical._

_When they had briefly messaged back and forth, it turned out he wasn’t very funny and he had little to really add to their conversation, but she considered him to be good enough for a few drinks and a quick shag back at the cafe. Always the cafe. She hadn’t been able to bring anyone back to her flat just yet. She was still relishing in the idea of her priest as the last man in her bed. His t-shirt lay across her pillow, his scent long gone, but the comfort it brought her as she tried to get to sleep remained. She wondered if he had noticed he was missing it._

_Tonight, for Luke, she was wearing a dress, short and bright. Not too much make up. It wasn’t needed, she looked fucking fantastic. Probably the grief working its magic, she smiled to herself briefly. With the finishing touches on her hair, she stroked her mothers statue for good luck and headed out into the night._

_—_

_Fuck, he was boring. Possibly one of the worst yet._

_‘And then I decided I loved mathematics too much to not be an accountant, you know?’ He looked at her eagerly for a response._

_‘Mmmhmm,’ she took a glug of her vodka._

_‘It just fit. And I just find it all so fascinating, modelling cash flow projections, analysing for impairment and it’s all against a strict set of rules. Well,’ he laughed conspiratorially, ‘I suppose_ you _know that it’s really a framework rather than rules, but I like to think of them as rules.’_

_FUCK. This was worse than anything she had encountered before. Should she make a run for it? Luke was grinning at her as he took a dainty sip of beer. No, she decided rapidly, he’ll do for a quick one at the cafe._

_‘Listen, do you want to get out of here? We could go to my cafe. I’ve got some booze, and,’ she stroked his leg with her foot slowly, ‘it’s pretty private.’_

_He gulped loudly and looked down at his leg, ‘yeah, uh, yeah. I’ll just finish this shall I and we can go?’_

_Ugh, he wanted to finish his drink. Stingy accountant, clearly didn’t want to waste his hard earned cash on an unfinished drink. He had put the pint back on the table and started talking again, something about projections or… GOD. She could not sit through an entire drink of this nonsense. She downed the last drop of her vodka and leaned in towards Luke, her hand sliding across the table. With a quick flick, the pint glass was on its side and beer was all over the table and falling onto the old carpet of the pub._

_‘Oh shit!’ She exclaimed innocently, ‘I’m so sorry. I can get you a drink at mine to make up for it.’_

_Luke was looking around worriedly, trying to find a napkin to clear up the mess. She grabbed his hand and dragged him up, ‘come on, quick before we’re kicked out.’_

_She dragged him out the pub and onto the quiet street. Luckily they were only across the road from Hilary’s. ‘Luckily’ meaning entirely by design were they across the street from Hilary’s. She had really started valuing convenience over location when it came to getting a quick shag. She continued to drag him by the hand towards the cafe, ignoring his protests at leaving the spilt beer._

_‘Come on, it’ll be worth it,’ she smiled back at him gleefully before turning forwards towards the cafe… CRASH. Her playful trot came to an abrupt stop as she slammed straight into someone standing in the middle of the pavement._

_Before she could even consider where this person had come from, she was assaulted with a familiar scent, one she had desperately clung onto as she held the forgotten t-shirt to her nose each night._

_‘Oh! I’m so sorry,’ came the lilting voice._

***

He had been to her flat and, in a cruel repeat of his visit seven nights previously, when he’d rang the buzzer, he’d gotten no reply. He peered into the windows, trying to see whether she was in and avoiding him. There was a light on, but it was just by the door. The rest of the flat was in darkness. She must have just left it on for when she returned later.

He turned and folded his arms across his chest. What now? Adrenaline was pumping through him as the prospect of seeing her faded slightly. He could try the cafe, just a quick walk by to see whether she was still there? But it was gone 8pm, would she still be there this late?

He dithered on the doorstep, uncertain of what to do next.

‘Just make up your fecking mind, you eejit,’ he cursed himself out loud. The street was quiet, no rustle in the bushes tonight to tell him what to do.

With an uncertain mind, he started to walk. He could just check the cafe. If she wasn’t there, he could come back to her flat and wait. Or he could return to the cafe during the day tomorrow, when she would be almost certain to be there.

He walked down the street, hands in pockets, head turned down. The sense of dread at seeing her was now turning into a sense of guilt at possibly derailing her night. Whether she wanted to see him or not, this was certain to cause some sort of pain for her. Even if just for the first few seconds.

Arriving at the cafe, he could see almost immediately that it was in darkness. ‘For fuck sake,’ he cursed himself again and sat on the step outside the front door. Of course she wasn’t here. It was 8pm on a Thursday. She would probably be out with someone. He had never really gotten to find out about her friends, he assumed she didn’t have too many, but she surely had at least one or two. One who she would be with now, enjoying some drinks and bitching about him probably.

The street was quiet. He sat with his elbows on his knees, fingertips resting together as he pondered his next move. A young couple walked past, chatting quietly, her head resting against his arm as they walked. They were followed by an elderly man. He whistled as he walked his Labrador, smiling as he passed by.

He stood up, he would go home. And he would return here tomorrow. That was the sensible thing to do, rather than wait around like a stalker for her to magically appear. He turned towards the bus stop, comfortable with his decision. There was another couple approaching. they were holding hands and she was playfully pulling her partner along, smiling. She was familiar. She was laughing. His heart began to race as he realised it was her, she wasn’t looking where she was going, she was going to crash right into him. He willed himself to move out of her way, but she was walking right towards him.

And suddenly she was there. She had crashed right into him. She dropped the hand of her man and turned to him, a yelp flying out of her mouth as she realised they had collided. And then she was there, looking right into his eyes, her mouth inches from his, her hands placed on his shoulders, an instinctual attempt to stop herself from falling into him. The easy smile playing on her mouth fell and her expression hardened.

‘Oh! I’m so sorry!’ The words were out of his mouth before he knew it. He was staring at her lips.

‘Hello,’ she muttered quietly. It wasn’t friendly, it was the way he had seen her greet her god/stepmother. Uh oh.

He took a step back. This was a mistake. She was with someone else. And she looked, if not angry, then at the very least irritated. He cleared his throat, ‘hi, uh, sorry. I’ll see you, um, I mean, ok.’ He was fucking this up, he turned and stumbled slightly. ‘Ok, bye.’

***

_Well fuck. What was he doing here? She glanced back at Luke who was idly waiting on the pavement behind her, observing the interaction. He had his collar on, her priest. Why was he at her cafe?_ He _was the one who had told her not to come to his church. Why was he here? Had he expected her to be here? The thoughts rushed through her head all at once. A jumble of questions. She took a step forward, she had to find out what he was doing. She took a few more steps before a small cough reminded her of what she had been doing before the interruption. Fucking Luke._

_She spun on her heel, ‘hey, um sorry, can I take a raincheck? That was just a - friend of mine. I need to speak with him.’_

_‘You’re friends with a priest?’ Luke was staring at her dumbly._

_Her priest was fading into the darkness as he walked briskly away, she was wasting time, ‘sorry, I’ll call you,’ she called over her shoulder to Luke as she began racing down the street._

_He had gotten pretty far, but she could still see him. She called out his name and he turned. Her heart contracted at the sight of him. He looked lost, like a deer in the headlights, scared of its prey. He took a few tentative steps towards her as she closed the gap between them._

_‘Hey,’ she was breathing heavily, damn those exercise classes that she never went to._

_‘Hey,’ he echoed her, hands clasped together in front of his body._

_‘You were at my cafe?’_

_‘You were with a friend?’_

_‘How come you…?’ she stopped. Why was he here?_

_‘Sorry, do you have to be back? To your friend? I didn’t mean to…’_

_‘No,’ it came out harsher than she’d meant it to. He flinched slightly. ‘No, I mean, no. He’s, um, he’s gone.’_

_‘Oh, ok,’ he smiled sadly, looking down at the pavement between them._

_‘So, you were at my cafe?’ She smiled, ‘I thought you might have placed a self imposed ban on coming here?’ She couldn’t help herself, she wanted to joke with him, get back to their easy rapport._

_He looked up at her, her breath caught slightly as they gazed at each other. His eyes were round, pools of despair, she just wanted to dive right into them._

_‘I should have, shouldn’t I?’ He laughed again softly, ‘I really didn’t mean to interrupt your…’ he trailed off._

_‘You didn’t. You didn’t interrupt. I promise.’ He looked like he might leave. Like a jittery animal that might bolt at any sudden movement. ‘Do you want to… do you want to come sit down in the cafe? Or, what are you…? Did you want to talk?’_

_‘Yes, the cafe sounds good,’ his smile was wider this time, genuine, ‘if that’s ok?’_

_‘Of course,’ her heart leapt slightly at the thought of him back at the cafe, ‘come on.’_


	3. A quick getaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> Thanks folks

He followed her slowly as they headed towards the cafe, she was wearing a bright red dress. It reminded him of the wedding. She was glancing back at him as she walked, as if worried he might not follow her. He wanted to grab her hand, let her know he wouldn’t be leaving. His hands fidgeted by his side and he shoved them in his pocket as they arrived in front of the cafe.

She turned to him as she shimmied a key into the door, ‘so, you were in the area or...?’ She smiled softly and turned back to open the door and step inside.

He followed her into the cafe and stood awkwardly as she flicked on the lights and headed to the counter.

‘Kind of. I was...’ why was he pretending? ‘Actually, I was just at your flat but you weren’t there.’

‘At my flat?’ She whipped around to face him.

‘But you were here,’ he finished his thought.

‘I was here,’ she repeated, leaning back against the counter, eyes set on his.

He clasped his hands in front of him, ‘yes. So, how have you been? Sorry, was that-‘ he gestured vaguely out the window, ‘was that a date I interrupted?’

Her eyes left his and followed his gesture briefly. ‘No. Well. Actually, I suppose, you could say that.’ She pulled out a chair from under the table and plonked herself down into it.

His stomach dropped. A date? A week after they had been together?

‘Ah, ok,’ he felt warm, like his cheeks were on fire. She was staring at him.

‘So, you came here to find me?’ she leant forward, elbows propped on the table and he tried to avert his eyes from the neckline of her dress as it fell forward.

Yes, date or no date, he _had_ come to find her! He had come here to tell her he’d made a mistake. He cleared his throat and reached up to his collar, tugging on it softly.

‘Yes, I-‘

She was staring at him expectantly. He pulled the chair out from under the table and sat down softly.

‘Yes. I came to find you. Actually I came to find you before... last week, I mean. But, anyway, that doesn’t matter now. I came to find you because I need to speak to you.’

She leaned a little closer, ‘you came last week?’

‘So, what I wanted to say... actually I needed to tell you...’ he should have rehearsed his speech he realised, cursing himself. ‘Well, I’m here because I _have_ to tell you...’

Her eyes were bright on his.

‘I have to tell you...’ he lost his trail of thought momentarily as he noticed a little ginger creature scurry across the table in front of him.

‘Oh my God! Your guinea pig is loose!’ He stood up quickly and darted towards the animal as it scampered onto the shelf.

******

_‘I have to tell you...’_

_What was he going to tell her?! Suddenly his eyes were wide in fright._

_Then he was up, chasing after Stephanie._

_‘Oh my God,’ she jumped out of her chair, knocking it backwards by accident._

_He had already caught the hamster and was turning back towards her, a small smile on his face as she snuggled into his chest._

_‘This is... not your guinea pig.’_

_‘A hamster,’ she finished his sentence just as he did. ‘A hamster, yes. Her name is Stephanie.’_

_‘Stephanie,’ his eyes were bright with laughter as he looked over towards the hutch. ‘A hamster named Stephanie? And where is Hilary?’_

_‘Oh Hilary!’ She glanced over at Hilary’s cage. The guinea pig was squeaking contentedly as she lay covered in straw, ignoring the chaos of the outside world._

_Hilary had used to adore trying to escape her confines, jumping free of her cage whenever she could, with an air of superiority about her as she expertly opened the latch. But over the last year or so she had grown a little older and calmed down, preferring to burrow as far as possible into the hutch, rather than leaving it._

_But Stephanie. Stephanie was a terror. Over the course of the last week, she had tried to escape six times, succeeding three of those attempts, before being spotted by some unassuming customers who thought she was a rat. It definitely had not been good for business._

_Her priest was staring at her, a laugh playing on his lips as he struggled with the fidgety hamster. She bit her lip softly as she watched him and her stomach lurched. Maybe she should just drop her protective barrier and throw herself at him. Beg him to change his mind._

_‘I acquired a hamster last week. Hilary doesn’t really like her. Neither do I to be honest, but we’re all she’s got so...’_

_He looked down at the hamster lovingly, ‘she’s a bit wriggly, this one. Not so easy to hold as Hilary.’_

_He seemed to have forgotten he was about to solemnly confess to her the reason he had come. He whispered softly to the hamster as she struggled, soothing her._

_She couldn’t help but stare. His hair looked a little messier than the last time she’d seen him, and his five o’clock shadow made him seem a little scruffier than usual. She stared at him sadly, as she tried to push the memory of their night together out of her mind._

_After what felt like an hour, but was most likely a long 30 seconds, Stephanie was sitting calmly in the crook of his elbow and he looked back up at her expectantly._

_‘So,' she began, 'you were telling me why you were here. You had to tell me something or...?’_

_He blinked before seeming to remember where he was and the smile left his face._

_‘Oh, right. Sorry.’ He crossed the cafe and stowed Stephanie back into the cage, closing the latch firmly before turning and walking back towards her. He stopped with a foot between them, she could smell his aftershave and see the faint laughter lines by his eyes._

_The air felt thick between them, infused with all the words she wanted to say, all the feelings she knew could come tumbling out of her if she let her guard down._

_He tugged at his collar. It seemed to have become an instinctual habit. She couldn’t remember him doing it before when she’d seen him at the church._

_‘You don’t have to wear your collar to see me,’ she broke the silence first, desperate to reduce the tension that had built. ‘I know you’re a priest. You don’t need to remind me.’_

_He laughed, shaking his head softly. She missed that laugh. He reached up and pulled the tab out of his collar, shoving it into his pocket and loosening a couple of the buttons. A black undershirt peeked out and she was momentarily transported back again, to the night they had spent together, to the desperate frenzy of pulling his shirt off, trying to get closer to him._

_She flicked her eyes back up to his._

*****

‘I’m sorry. I should have changed first, but I wanted to...’ why couldn’t he get the words out?

His heart was beating rapidly, his mouth felt dry. She’d been on a date. There was every chance she could reject him. He was standing so closely to her. He could smell coconut on her. She hadn’t moved away. He should take that as a sign. She was staring at him intensely.

He licked his lips, ‘so you left the bus stop straight away last week then?

She flinched slightly.

‘I spent a week wishing you had stayed there just a little longer,’ he brought his hand up to his face and held his forefinger and thumb an inch apart.

‘I’ve had a bit of a rough week actually,’ he raked his fingers through his hair. She snorted slightly, clearly irritated by his admittance. ‘I expect you might have too, I hope you haven’t but...’

‘How do you know I left the bus stop?’

‘Because...’ Spit it out you idiot! ‘Because I came back.’

She opened her mouth to speak but he interrupted.

‘I came back for you. It only took me, what, two minutes? To realise I had made a mistake. And I came back, I ran actually,’ he laughed, embarrassed at his desperation.

‘But I got back and you weren’t there. So then I went back to your dad’s house. To see if you had gone to find Claire or someone but I only saw your stepmother. I take it she didn’t mention?’

‘Godmother,’ she corrected him. ‘I haven’t spoken to her or dad.’

‘Ah.’

She had inched closer slightly. If he moved his hands forward just a fraction, they would touch hers. His fingers were fidgety.

‘You came back?’ she was hardly breathing.

Ok, now or never.

‘Yes. I came back and I’m in love with you. And it’s you.’

‘It’s me?’

‘Yes, that should have been my answer. When you asked me. It’s you. It’s you making my heart stop when I see you. It’s you I want to talk to every time anything fun or interesting or sad or moving happens. It’s you bringing me peace and love and happiness and fun.’

‘What about God?’ She looked wary, reluctant even.

‘Well, God brings me joy too. But not in the same way,’ he chuckled.

He reached out and took her hands, holding them softly between them. ‘I made a mistake last week. I tried to correct it, and then I spent a week thinking about what my next steps would be. If you’ve decided something has changed, I completely understand,’ his stomach lurched.

‘But, I want to correct my mistake now. I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I love you and I want to be with you.’

She took a step forward, pulling her hands out of his grasp and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. She was smiling. He moved his hands to her waist, the fabric of the dress felt soft between his fingers.

‘So...?’

‘Ok.’

‘Ok?’ He smiled softly.

‘Ok,’ she leaned forward, placing her lips softly on his.

****

_His lips were soft, just as she had remembered, as he pulled her in towards him. His hand was on her cheek, one finger softly stroking her chin. He was gentle, one hand gripping her waist, his thumb stroking back and forth just below her ribs._

_She sighed softly as she felt his tongue graze her lip. Her hands were in the back of his hair, trailing through the short strands and his aftershave reminded her of the last seven nights, as she fell asleep hugging his forgotten t-shirt._

_Banishing those thoughts out of her mind, she pulled him closer to her, pressing her hips against his and teasing his lips open with her tongue. She was breathing heavily, this was like a dream, she was flying._

_Then his hand was on the strap of her dress, twiddling it playfully as if testing whether he could just pull it down. He moved his mouth to her neck, gently teasing kisses down to her collarbone before returning to her lips. His hands were in her hair, grabbing desperately and pulling her into him. His hips were grinding against her and his hands were on the back of her dress, scrunching it, pulling it up._

_And then he let go._

_All of a sudden, he was on the other side of the cafe, hands in his hair, tugging at the strands, breathing heavily and staring at her._

_Had he changed his mind again? What had happened?_

_‘What?’ She was confused. She tugged her dress back down where he had teased the fabric up and tucked a curl behind her ear._

_He put his hands down, one going straight to his pec and the other leaning on a nearby table._

_‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry,’ he said as he tried to still his breath. ‘I didn’t change my mind, I just... I just had to stop before I couldn’t stop.’ He glanced towards the wall of windows at the front of the cafe._

_‘We’re a bit exposed and I look like this,’ he gestured to his priest get up, black trousers and shirt._

_‘You don’t have your collar on.’_

_‘I know, I know,’ he smiled at her and took a step towards her._

_‘I know, but I still probably shouldn’t, you know, have sex in a window. My parishioners could walk past.’_

_He picked up the chair she had knocked over earlier, took her hand and guided her to sit down. Sitting down next to her, her hands still in his, he leaned forward and placed a quick peck on her lips._

_‘Believe me, I want to. I want to do a lot of things.’_

_‘A lot of things?’ She liked the sound of that. ‘Like what, Father?’ She grinned at him._

_‘Like rip that bloody dress right off you for for a start,’ his eyes moved down her body. ‘It looks like the one from the wedding.’_

_‘I chucked that one.’_

_‘What?’ He was distracted from his thoughts. ‘Why?’_

_‘Bad memories.’_

_‘Oh,’ he reached forward and softly brushed his finger down her cheek. ‘I’m sorry.’_

_She smiled at him, ‘so what are we doing?’_

_‘Well, I’m thinking about what is under that dress, not sure about you,’ he cocked his eyebrow._

_She laughed, 'I mean, what are we doing? Are you here to just have sex in the backroom? Did you want to keep me as a little secret?’ The smile fell from her face. ‘Why are you here?’_

_He grasped her hands in his, interlinking their fingers._

_‘No,’ he shook his head, looking down at their fingers. ‘I don’t want you as my little secret. I would be very interested in having sex in the backroom, but that’s not why I’m here.’_

_‘I haven’t put anything into place yet, so I’ll need you to bear with me, if that’s ok,’ he looked up at her. ‘But I’m going to leave the priesthood. I’ve known you less than a month but I feel like I’ve known you for my entire life. So what I’m doing, is coming here to say I want to date you. Just as a regular guy, no collar. Although maybe, if you’ll let me, I’ll bring my bible along...’_

_‘So I get a choice on the whole God thing?’_

_‘Well...’ he pulled a face, his eyes scrunching slightly, ‘actually I was just saying that to avoid scaring you. I would have to bring God along. And a bible or two.’_

_She raised her eyebrow._

_‘But I wouldn’t make you read it,’ he added hastily. ‘I mean, maybe you’d enjoy it but,’ he laughed. ‘No?’_

_She took a deep breath._

_‘Ok. So you want to leave the church? Just for me?’ She felt a sudden weight. Where only moments ago she had been flying on the feeling of bliss as he kissed her, she now felt a heaviness fall over her._

_Leave the church? Just for her? It was so much. What if he regretted it? What if she fucked it up? Like she had with Boo? Boo! What if he found out about Boo and he couldn’t forgive her for it? What if his love for her wasn’t strong enough to replace his love for the priesthood? What if she failed?_

_She couldn’t take it, it was all too much._

_She stood abruptly, pulling her fingers out of his._

_‘What’s wrong?’ He leapt up out of his seat._

_‘I can’t do that.’_

_‘What?’ His eyes were wide._

_‘I can’t make you leave. It wouldn’t work.’ She grabbed her bag and strode towards the door to the cafe._

_‘What do you mean?’ He was standing in the middle of the cafe, staring at her._

_‘I think you should go. I think I should go,’ she pulled the door open, flicking the light off and stepping out onto the step._

_She turned back towards him, ‘can you pull that door too, it’ll lock.’_

_And then she was off, walking quickly down the street. She needed to get away. She couldn’t make him do that. She just couldn’t._

_She could hear him behind her, following, calling out her name. In front of her, a taxi was making its way down the road, she held her arm out and jumped in, pulling the door shut._

_‘Can you just drive?’ She called out to the cabbie._

_‘Righty-o love.’ The cabbie pulled away from the curb and she saw her priest, standing on the sidewalk, watching desperately as she left._


	4. Finding peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> There was a fair amount of bullying from some 'fwends' that led to me completing this chapter when i could have been re-watching Hamilton but there ya have it.
> 
> Hope everyone is well and still alive after #priest2020 slayed us all with his confessional booth appearance.
> 
> Stay safe folks!

What had just happened?! They’d been making out and then suddenly she was running away. He ran his hand roughly through his hair, watching the cab disappear.

She had to be going to her flat right? Or maybe Claire’s. What if she went to a friends house? His heart sank at the thought.

He walked slowly contemplating his next move. Should he chase her? Would that scare her more? Or would that prove to her he meant it?

He looked up to the sky, ‘some sort of sign would be great right now,’ he muttered quietly under his breath.

Nothing came. No fox. No gust of wind or fallen street sign.

He could still feel the touch of her on his skin as they had pulled each other closer, desperately marking their desire for each other.

He quickly hailed a cab and gave the directions to her house. His mind was racing. She was just scared? Or had it just been a fling for her? Maybe the forbidden nature of the relationship was what she’d liked? Rather than him?

But it hadn’t seemed that way. Not the night they had spent together nor the at the bus stop the following night. It couldn’t just have been a game to her.

Pulling up outside her flat, he could see it was still in darkness. He couldn’t be too far behind her though. A couple of minutes at the most. Perhaps she hadn’t come here at all.

He strode up the path and knocked loudly on the door, pressing the buzzer at the same time. He called her name.

‘Please, if you’re in there. Please let us talk. I didn’t mean to panic you, or put any pressure on you. Please.’

He pressed his face against the pane of glass in her front door. It was completely dark. Hadn’t there been a light on when he’d been here earlier? A light right in the hallway.

She must have come back. His eyes adjusted to the dark as he continued to peer through.

‘Can you just open the door? I won’t come in. I just want to talk.’

A shadow through the glass shifted. His chest felt tight. She was there. He was sure she was there, on the other side of the door.

‘Ok, I’ll just talk from here,’ he put his hand on the door, willing it to open. ‘I love you. I knew I loved you when we had sex. I knew I loved you at the bus stop. I thought I had to leave. I thought that maybe...’ he stopped. Should he tell her?

‘I thought that maybe you’d been sent to test me or something,’ he laughed miserably, shaking his head. ‘I thought maybe the devil or something, had sent you. And... well, I thought I was betraying God by loving you.’

‘But...-,’ he leaned his head forward, softly leaning on the glass. ‘Did you really read the bible I gave you? Really? Because I highlighted something for you, “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”’

The shadow shifted again, he lifted his face up hopefully. A light came on.

‘Please open up. I’m sorry I came on so strong. I’m not going to change my life just because of you. I mean,’ he laughed, ‘I guess you _could_ say it’s because of you but not in the way you think. Not in the pressure filled, great expectations of how our life will be way. I don’t have any expectations, I just know I love you. I feel like some kind of magnetic pull is forcing me towards you and I want it there. I want to be with you and hear what you have to say and make you laugh and yes, I still need God and I will work out how I will lead my life with him and you in it but I...’

He stopped. The door had swung open. His hand slipped where it has been leaning on the glass and he looked up. She wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were glistening.

‘Boo,’ she whispered it softly.

‘What?’ He laughed cautiously. What?

‘Boo. I have to tell you about Boo before you say anything else.’

‘Ok,’ his eyes searched hers for a sign. What was she talking about?

She took his hand and dragged him gently into her flat, flicking the door closed behind them and sitting on the sofa. He sat next to her drinking her in, keeping hold of her hand.

She opened her mouth, ‘Boo was my friend,’ she began.

And so he sat and listened as she reeled off the story of the friend she had started Hilary’s Cafe with, of Boo’s love for guinea pigs, of her open, kind hearted spirit and her zest for life.

When she began to tell him about Jack, Boo’s boyfriend, she tried to pull her hand from his. He glanced down, gripping it tighter, pulling her towards him.

Then she told him about her and Jack, how Boo had come to her in tears, crying about his betrayal.

‘I couldn’t tell her what I’d done,’ she lowered her eyes, he could see tears beginning to fall down her face. His grip on her hand was vice-like as she tried to pull away from him.

‘I was so ashamed, I don’t know why I did it,’ she glanced up, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before looking down again. ‘And then she killed herself. She didn’t mean to, but I never got a chance to tell her. She would have hated me.’

Tears will flowing freely now and she was pointedly avoiding his eye. She sat up abruptly, yanking her hand from out of his and shifting backwards down the sofa, away from him.

‘So, all that stuff you said was nice. I love you. But I can’t ruin your life too,’ she crossed her arms firmly. Her face looked hard now, she had stopped crying. ‘Like I ruined hers. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.’

It wasn’t what he’d expected. He wasn’t too sure what he’d expected. But he hated to think of how she must be feeling.

She was staring him down, daring him to hate her. He shifted towards her, throwing his arms around her and pulling her into him.

*****

_Suddenly, she was in his arms. Hers were still folded across her chest but he was pulling her towards him, squeezing her tightly._ _Her face was buried into him, tears were falling down her cheeks again. She hated that she was crying in front of him._

_His chin was resting on her hair when he spoke, ‘It breaks my heart, to think of the pain you must’ve been carrying around. That’s an awful thing to deal with, losing your best friend like that.’_

_She flinched._

_‘But it’s not your fault. None of that is your fault. One wrong action, one mistake, doesn’t make you a bad person. And by the way you describe her, her kind heart, she wouldn’t have hated you. People make mistakes,’_

_She laughed into him before lifting her head, ‘that’s why they put rubbers on pencils.’_

_‘What?’ He chuckled, looking down at her. His arms tightened around her._

_‘They put rubbers on pencils,’ she repeated. ‘Because people make mistakes’_

_He laughed again. Louder this time. She loved to watch him laugh, it reached his eyes and seemed to fill his entire body._

_She twisted her body, manoeuvring her arms around his waist. She’d thought he would bolt. When he heard what she’d done. She’d thought he wouldn’t be able to see past it. But of course, she should have known him better, he had the same kind heart as Boo did._

_‘Thank you for telling me that,’ he was smiling down at her. ‘You can talk to me about anything you know? I won’t get all churchy, promise.’_

_‘Ah, I’m sure you will,’ she eyed him sceptically._

_He laughed again, ‘maybe I will. But admit it,’ his grin turned to a smirk, ‘you love that about me.’_

_She loosened her grip on his waist and leaned back, ‘oh, come on. At best, I tolerate that about you.’_

_Now it was his turn to lean back, ‘admit it.’_

_‘Admit what?’ She straightened up, they were eye to eye._

_‘You love when I’m churchy, it's part of the attraction,’ he leaned towards her with a quick lick of his lower lip._

_God his lips were nice. ‘Nope,’ she grinned at him._

_He leaned closer still, their noses were practically touching, his breath was minty and her cheeks felt warm._

_‘Admit it,’ his hands found their way to her waist. His fingers caressed the material of her red dress, his thumb circled against one of the buttons._

_He was playing chicken. She could play this all night._

_But then again, she didn’t really want to._

_‘Ok fine, I love you being churchy,’ she leaned in and placed her lips on his gently._

_His fingers on her waist tightened and he pulled her onto his lap. She curled her arms around his neck as she felt his tongue against her lips, asking her for access._

_Her mind was spinning. She’d spent the past seven days, desperately cuddling his stupid t-shirt, wishing he was with her. And now, here he was. His hands were all over her body, running down her thigh, up her waist, on her cheek. All the time, his lips didn’t leave hers. She shifted round to straddle him, he sat back, staring at her, his eyes looked wild and his hands were on her thighs, beneath her dress and to her underwear._

_She leaned towards him, mouth back on his, hands running through his hair, grinding her hips softly on his lap. He undid a button on her dress, pulling it back and moving his lips to her collarbone. His fingers were fast on the buttons as he tried to undo them._

_‘These fucking buttons,’ he whispered into her mouth as he desperately tried to undo them._

_‘Just pull it over my head,’ she murmured as she focused her attention on his shirt._

_In one motion, the dress was on off, over her head. He threw it aside and put his hands on her waist._

_He leaned in to kiss her again, ‘I love you.’ She felt him mutter it against her lips. Her stomach twinged._

_‘I love you too,’ she whispered. This was not her. Whispering ‘I love you’ into someone’s ear as they were about to have sex._

_As she pushed her hips against him, she could feel how hard he was. She pulled his shirt black off, ‘a t-shirt again?!’ She half laughed to herself._

_‘Yeah,’ he yanked the undershirt over his head and threw it aside, ‘although I think my supply has dwindled slightly.’ He smiled at her._

_He pushed her up, standing and yanking his trousers off before pushing her back against the wall. He pressed his body against hers, she could feel his cock tenting his boxers as he pushed against her and crushed his lips back on hers. He had one hand on her bra, pulling at the strap, as his other hand made its way down. She pushed her hips against him, her breathing was shallow, her heart beating fast. She could feel his was too, hammering against her. She ran her hands down his arms, the muscles rippled as his hand made its way down her waist and then skimmed her underwear. Then he was slipping his hands under the material. He moved his lips down, biting at her nipple as he felt how wet she was. She heard the moans escape her lips as he began to move his finger against her clit._

_Her hips were convulsing against him as he picked up a rhythm. She wanted him closer. He was there, she wasn’t imagining it, he was really there. She could feel his finger move further down until he pressed into her, his thumb on her clit, his finger pulsing inside her._

_She reached her hand down, slipping under the waistband of his boxers. His cock was so hard, she wrapped her hand around it, sliding slowly up and down._

_His rhythm faltered slightly as she tightened her grip and his breath hitched._

_‘Oh God,’ he whispered as he leant his forehead against hers, breathing heavily._

_Suddenly he was out of her grasp and on his knees in front her. He hooked his finger around her underwear and pulled it smoothly down her legs, placing soft kisses on the inside of her thighs. She leaned back against the wall, craving his touch as he placed his hands on her hips. Then his tongue was on her clit, circling, sucking, persistent strokes making moans slip out of her mouth as she grabbed at his hair. Her legs felt weak, he upped the pressure and she cried out his name, placing her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she came._

_He looked up at her, his mouth still on her, his eyes smiling before he stood._

_Then he was kissing her again, his hands were on her tits, she could feel his erection pressed against her as he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger before leaning down and flicking the tip with his tongue and biting._

_The touch of his fingers against her skin was electric. It was burning. She wanted him. She reached down to his boxers and pulled them down, freeing his cock._

_‘I want you now,’ she whispered against his lips as she gripped his cock and guided him towards her._

_She lifted her leg, wrapping it around him as he thrusted, sinking into her. He began to rock his hips slowly against her, rubbing against her clit as he thrust slowly. With his head on her shoulder, he whispered another confession of love into her ear, one hand pushed against the wall behind her as he found his rhythm._

_Then his mouth was back on hers, he bit her lower lip as she arched her body against him, her hands on his lower back, pulling him against her. As the pressure against her clit on each thrust increased, she moaned into his mouth, and called out his name as she came again and again._

_He was everywhere, filling her senses, his body slick with sweat as he slammed against her. His pace quickened, his rhythm lost as he pushed inside her. She could hear him softly muttering her name as he bit her shoulder. Then he was calling out to God, his hand buried in her hair, pulling her lips to his as he came. His thrusts slowly subsided and he pulsed softly against her._

_He had fallen against her, the wall holding them up as they recovered. She pulled him against her, hands on his arse. Her hip ached at the angle of her leg but she didn’t care. She just wanted him against her._

_Their hearts hammered against their chests as they pressed together. He pressed his forehead against hers and smiled widely as he tried to catch his breath._

_‘Ok-‘he began._

_‘Hold on,’ she stopped him. ‘Let’s just stay here a minute longer.’_

_‘Ok,’ he leant his head back on her shoulder and kissed it softly._

_As her breathing returned to normal, she put her hand on the back of his neck, softly playing with the short strands of hair._

_Now she was ready. ‘Ok,’ she said._

****

They had migrated to her room. She was lounging back on her bed as he lay next to her, propped on his side, one hand stroking softly on her stomach.

‘Ok, so we didn’t quite finish our chat.’

She glanced at him, ‘we didn’t?’

‘Um, no,’ he gazed at her. ‘The one from the cafe, and from through your front door...? Remember?’

‘Oh, that,’ she lay her head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

He sighed. ‘So you want to have sex with me, but you don’t want to be with me? Properly?’

That was the only way he could read it. Clearly she had wanted to have sex with him. So why was she clamming up at discussion of their future?

She sat up and took a deep breath, ‘I want to be with you, of course I do.’

His heart flipped.

‘But I don’t want to cause you pain, I don’t want to ruin your life.’

He leaned into her, kissing her softly, ‘you could never.’

‘I know but what if you regret it? In a months time? A years time? Ten years?’

He shifted, moving towards her so he was hovering over her. He brushed her hair from her face tenderly.

‘Maybe I will, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m not saying we’ve got happily ever after here, we’ll work fucking hard on this but that’s what I want to do.’

She frowned slightly.

‘Tonight, you let me in, to a side of you that had been weighing on you, you actually let me in! Or maybe you tried to scare me off?’ He laughed. ‘But either way, I’m here and I love you and we’ll work things out together. I want to anyway. If you’ll have me.’

He waited. She was looking at him. She was thinking, he could tell from her eyes as they flickered back and forth. She bit her lip.

Fuck, he wanted to kiss her. He restrained himself as he allowed her to process.

‘Ok,’ came the response.

‘Ok?’

‘Ok,’ she grinned. ‘Ok, I love you. You’re crazy enough to come here and pick me, of course I want you here.’

Relief flooded over him as he crushed his lips against hers, letting his body fall against her as she wrapped her arms around him.

He pulled away slightly, ‘I’m bringing God too. You like my churchy ways.’ He smiled at her.

She smirked, ‘I only said that so you’d fuck me.’

‘What,’ he leant down, biting fiercely on her shoulder.

She laughed.

‘You’ll pay for that.’

He leant down to bite her again, pinning her wrists above her head. She smiled back at him, eyes glowing, a small laugh escaping her lips. He trailed small bites from her shoulder, along her collarbone and to her neck before finding her lips.

With one hand pinning her wrists together, he moved his other to her chin where he softly grazed his thumb along her jawline. He trailed his hand past her tits, feeling the curve of her waist until he found her clit. He could feel her push her hips against him as he began to move his fingers down.

With his mouth resting against hers, he murmured into her lips, ‘what do you want?’

‘Just-,’ she opened her eyes, ‘just like that.’ She smiled. He loved her smile, he leant down and kissed her again, stealing kisses as he felt her come, revelling in her cries as she pushed against his hand.

And then she was taking control, pushing him off her, onto his back, climbing over him, straddling him, sliding onto his cock, the heady sensation engulfing him slowly. He placed his hands on her thighs as she moved slowly, watching him intently. She was smiling, tightening around him, agonisingly slow as she moved up and down. She rolled her hips, and he bucked against her desperate for more. He ran his hands up her legs to her waist, pulling her hips down, snapping his up towards her.

But she was still smiling at him, she took both of his hands from her waist, leaning forward and pressing his wrists into the pillow above his head. Leaning towards him, as she gently rocked her hips, she leant down to his ear, ‘I hear patience,’ she whispered softly, ‘is a virtue, Father.’

He groaned loudly, cursing as she rolled her hips, peppering kisses down his jaw and onto his neck.

‘You made me wait a week,’ she murmured as she sucked on his neck. ‘Shall I?’ She pulled her head back to look at him. It was some sort of exquisite torture, maybe she was the devil after all.

‘No,’ she laughed softly, ‘I couldn’t. I need you to fuck me.’

She slid off him and moved onto her hands and knees, looking back at him, ‘I want you to fuck me,’ she repeated.

He didn’t need telling twice, he moved towards her, putting his hands on her hips and thrusting inside her, inhaling sharply as he felt how wet she was. He leaned forward, reaching one hand round to find her clit and began to stroke in time with his thrusts. The other hand steadied him as he began to up his speed, slamming into her. He could feel her tighten rhythmically around him and he whispered her name as she began to moan. He continued pulsing his finger against her clit, she was already sensitive, and he could sense she was about to orgasm again. As she came, she collapsed onto her elbows.

‘God help me,’ he cried as she tightened around him. He was losing his rhythm now, he had both hands on her hips as he quickened his pace. His breathing was ragged and his thoughts entirely on her as he slammed his hips into hers one last time and then he was moaning, words escaping his lips, declarations of love, a moment of pure bliss as he came inside her.

He could feel her trembling beneath him as he came back to his senses. After quickly cleaning up, he pulled her into his chest, both of them laying on one pillow, the length of their bodies touching. Her hand playfully stroked his hair as she pressed her lips to his chest.

He buried his nose into her hair, he loved her scent. It felt like he was home. He was at peace, her gentle breathing against his chest was soothing as he realised he had finally found his peace.


End file.
